l o s t
by pearls'locket
Summary: Each time a piece of her soul died along [Repost]


**l o s t**

**.**

She lost them all, one by one, her daughter, her fiancé, her best friend, her husband, till she had no one and nothing left.

.

.

.

Each time _a piece of her soul_ died along.

/

The bundle was light in her arms, almost like a bag of feathers,as she held it - her baby, her daughter - against her chest, softly rocking back and forth, a heartbeat to her heartbeat. Two big eyes looked up at her in wonder, bright and innocent, before a tiny hand reached up, catching a loose, blond strand of hair in their grasp.

"Hello there,"Izzie cooed, her voice a soft whisper in the dimmed room."Sarah."

At the mere sound of her voice, a smile curved at the corner of _Sarah's_ mouth, a response to her, and Izzie could feel a smile of her own forming as well. In the pit of her stomach though, she could sense a gnawing feeling eating away from her, bit by bit, the dread of tomorrow. It was stupid, really, because she knew it was unavoidable, because she knew it was the right thing. She was doing the _right _thing.

Still, as she sat there with her daughter in her arms, her hold tightened slightly, fearing the moment she had to let go.

/

„Denny, I.."

The light in her eyes drowned out, the words on her tongue died, stuck, forever unspoken, when her gaze fell on him, still and motionless, breathless.

Izzie lingered in the doorway, frozen and lost, before she slowly made her way to him, each step mechanic and robotic, still not believing her eyes. Her fingers found their path to his face, fingertips carefully running over his eyelids, his cheekbone, along his jaw line, his lips, cold under her touch, his skin lost the _warmth_ it once possessed.

Coldness filled her like ice to the core, while she lowered herself beside him, her face hiding into his shoulder, her nose grazing his neck. Vaguely she heard a voice, in the distance like an echoing sound, the words were lost to her before they could reach her. Her hand laid on top of his chest where once his heart used to beat, but now there was_ nothing_ but stillness.

/

The sky was _too_ blue, the grass was_ too_ green, it was a day _George_ would have loved, that is, if he had been still alive, and not hit by a bus. They were all standing like black statues while the sun burned on upon them, laughing at them, the voice of the vicar ringed in the distance, monotonic. Every now and then a loud sob cracked through the girl who George saved, lost his life for, tears streaming endlessly down her face, leaving tracks. It was a ridiculous sight, really, not even his mother cried that hard.

And that girl didn't even know a thing about George, not the way she did, anyway. It was her that knew him like the back of her hand, she could read every tilt of his eyebrow, every flick of his wrist, every frown on his face. She knew him like _no one else_ ever did. Not that girl.

Holding a hand to her mouth, she quickly turned her back to everyone, darting away. Faintly, she heard footsteps following her, as plopped down on a stone, mirthless laughter broke out from her lips that trapped in her throat, knocking insanely in her mind.

/

The look in eyes almost hit her like lightning, his brown orbs burning into hers, sharp and intense. Hurt revealed in them, swirling openly for her to witness it, the hurt_ she _alone inflicted on him. Her insides churned at that. Every word that left his mouth, stabbed her very core, pierced like needles into her heart, twisting it painfully, red rivulets pouring out of its cracks.

She wanted to stop him, to do something, _anything,_ to make him see, to make him _believe_ that it's not too late. That they could still make it work, that they still could fix whatever went wrong between them. That it's scary, yes, but they still could be scared _together,_ just like he told her once. That it's still not too late for an _You&Me, _for an _'Us' _for them.

But her lips remained sealed, tightly, everything on her mind choked in her throat, dying before it lived.

Because she knew, he said nothing but the truth. The cold, hard truth.

So, when his footsteps echoed faintly in the hall, there was nothing left but a huge, space beside her on the bench and her broken heartbeats hammering loudly in the darkness.

/

The building loomed over her, high and daunting, as she casted one last glance back over her shoulder, ironical, she once used to call it her home.

Shivering, she pulled her jacket tighter around her frame and turned her back to it, walking away, she never felt that lonely, lost and scared than she did in that particular moment.

.

.

.

_"This is your home."_

_"No, it's not. Not anymore."_

_"Please don't go."_

_"I need to start over."_

_._

_._

_._


End file.
